


not meant to last

by Chillykins



Category: Prison Break
Genre: Angst then fluff then angst again, Backstory, F/M, Pre-Series, mentions of abuse, pre-season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 04:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillykins/pseuds/Chillykins
Summary: "I have all these dots. And there's just no way to connect them." - Richard Sullins, 2x08Alex Mahone's background is mostly a mystery to his co-workers. That's just the way he wants it. You dig into his history and you find hints of a troubled childhood and an impressive -- albeit puzzling -- jump from an average infantry man to leading important FBI cases.It turns out his rise isn't so surprising after all, but the fact he was able to find happiness along the way was.(Too bad we all know how that joy ends.)





	not meant to last

**Author's Note:**

> This story combines the canon information we have of Alex from the show as well as from the companion book (Prison Break: The Classified FBI Files by Paul Ruditis) with my own headcanons to link everything together. It follows Alex from his childhood up until that fateful Fox River Eight phone call.
> 
> Special thanks to Tumblr Alex RPer finishlined for the character beta read and swapping headcanons and tears about this wonderful dramatic jerk. Additional love to Tumblr/AO3 user graveexcitement for the beta read, even though you know nothing about the show apart from my incoherent liveblogs.

Alex Mahone learns at an early age that life is not fair. His classmates at school like to talk about how their moms would bake them special cookies later that night and how their dads would play dolls or sports with them. He wonders what it would be like to have parents who love each other. Who love him. His mother tells him she loves him quite frequently -- and that she has any love to give is remarkable given what his father does -- and he believes her. At least, he believes her until she’s gone.

 

He doesn’t blame her for leaving. How could he? He knows what his father does to her. To Peter. To him. Peter left months earlier, as soon as he turned eighteen, and Alex is continuously torn between relief for his brother's sake and jealousy and resentment. He knew his older brother wouldn’t have been able to save him once he left, as what court would allow a barely-turned eighteen-year-old to care for his younger brother? His mother, though...

 

He doesn’t blame her for leaving, but he blames her for not taking him with her. Maybe it’s the judge’s fault, allowing his father to hold on to his custody. Maybe it’s the system’s fault, believing that his father would treat him differently once his mother was gone. But Alex doesn’t know the judge. He doesn’t know how the system is supposed to work. He knows his mother, and he knows she claimed to love him, but she is gone and he has to remain alone with his father, who now only has one person to beat.

 

From an early age, he learns to study people. Read them. His father is an unfortunately excellent subject -- he knows how to put on a fairly normal front any time he has to go out into the community, but then behind closed doors becomes the monster Alex knows he is. Alex can’t protect himself from every time his father lashes out, but he learns to recognize the signs early, so he has a chance to slip away. It was easier when Peter and his mother were home, but sometimes he notices the clenched jaw or the danger in the voice and manages to make up some excuse to run.

 

One of his favorite refuges is the local library. Given their financial situation, there aren’t many books lying about in the Mahone household. The ones they own are old and battered, and Alex has read them many times over. He wants a challenge, something to help grow his knowledge so he has a better chance of making something of himself after leaving home. The books don’t help him much in school because they’re not material that’s tested on, but it keeps his mind off what’s waiting for him at home. Back when he wasn’t the only other person in the house, he would hide until someone else took the beating. Now when he returns, Alex has to hope his father’s urge has passed; otherwise, he’s right back where he started.

 

The librarians learn his face and not to ask what he’s doing. Sometimes they recommend books, but they don’t ask him why he’s there, or why he’s always alone. Alex can tell they question him. It doesn’t matter, because even if they knew why he was there, they wouldn’t do anything. He knows better than to ask for help. Either people give his father the benefit of the doubt, or they suggest trying the court system. He also knows how that ends.

 

His grades in school have never been anything special, and high school, when grades are said to truly matter, is no different. His intelligence is the kind that doesn’t translate well over standard tests, and he isn’t motivated to make a name for himself. He learned the hard way at home that standing out isn’t always a good thing. Besides, he’ll be joining the military as soon as he turns eighteen -- what does the military care about his grades, as long as he’s a willing body?

 

Once, he makes the mistake of shining on a psychology assignment. His teacher asks him to stay a few minutes after class, and Alex agrees. It’s not like he has anywhere he has to be. His heart beats faster, anticipating all of the things he could’ve done wrong. Except --

 

“This is the best work I’ve ever seen on this assignment, Alex,” his teacher says. “And I’ve been using it for years.”

 

The assignment had required the students to read profiles of fictional people and use terms they’d learned in class to describe them. An additional part of the project -- although not as heavily weighed -- asked for some analysis of the person. Alex had found it fascinating, given his skill for reading people and interest in the workings of people’s minds. It hadn’t occurred to him that his fellow students wouldn’t have come to the same conclusions as he had, since it had seemed so easy. Enjoyable, even.

 

“Thank you,” he says, unsure of why it is necessary for him to remain late to be told he did well -- isn’t that what a grade is for?

 

“I don’t doubt that this is your work, but I looked at your other grades and...well, they’re not bad, but what you did on this indicates that you’re capable of much more. If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you apply yourself to all your classes with this effort?”

 

He did mind her asking, actually. He knows exactly why he didn’t bother, but that would involve discussing his home life.

 

“They don’t hold my interest,”  he says instead, which isn’t a lie.

 

“Well, you’re certainly not the first student to show preferences.” His teacher leans back in her chair. “Have you considered studying psychology or something similar in college?”

 

“I haven’t thought much about it.” Alex pauses, hesitates, unsure if he should elaborate. “I’m actually not going to college right after graduation. I’m going to enlist in the army.”

 

He’s aware he isn’t the only one of his class to decide to enlist. It’s seen as a brave and patriotic action, even if the motivations are not as pure. He doesn’t think anyone else shares his reasons, as he knows the signs.

 

“Oh.” She seems taken aback, as he’d never shown any previous indications of desiring to join the army. “Well, when you have a chance to go to college, you should think about majoring in something like psychology. I think you would be very good at it, Alex.”

 

He nods. His mind has spent the last years focusing on counting down the days to his eighteenth birthday, not what waits for him after his military service. The idea of studying people for a degree sounds appealing. Maybe he could even combine it with his desire to help others who couldn’t help themselves…

 

“If you ever want to talk about it more, I’m here,” she finishes, handing him his paper.

 

Alex looks down at it, then back at her. He gives a small smile, feeling some sort of connection with her. One he hasn’t felt with any other teacher. She doesn’t fully understand him and wouldn’t be able to help him if he ever picked up the courage to ask, but she’s seen his potential.

 

“Thank you,” he says again, more sincerely this time.

 

She returns the smile as he leaves.

 

\--

 

It turns out that Alex is good for the military. He doesn’t enjoy it and wishes he could be anywhere else, but it is simple. The enemies he learns about are supposed to be his enemies. It’s not like his childhood. They are not his father, who was supposed to be kind and caring and loving but was the opposite in every way. Perhaps those on the other side have families -- they likely do -- but in this case, he is good and they are bad and that’s all that matters.

 

It’s not as if he can dream of a different path for himself at this point. What options did he have, other than enlisting? If he wants to go to college, the only way he can afford it is to have financial aid from the military. It’s hard for him to think about college and his future when his thoughts are only focused on making it through each day. In a way, it’s like being at home, being consumed with going day-by-day until an end goal -- an exit -- is reached.

 

As with school, Alex doesn’t care much for standing out while he’s in the military. He does what he needs to in order to avoid being called out, but he’s firmly in the middle of the pack. By the time his initial years are up, he’s taller and stronger and more fit. More importantly, he’s ready to move on. He applies to a handful of colleges, checking “criminal justice” as his preferred major. He knows he can’t stop every criminal in the country, but he’s sure as hell going to try. If he has anything to say about it, he’s not going to let the system make the same mistakes it made with him.

 

\--

 

Being back in school is strange for Alex. Not only because of the length between stints, but because he has done almost nothing but physical activity since graduating high school. He settles into his old routine easily: doing his work and not concerning himself with unnecessary socializing. Unlike his primary schooling, his grades in college matter more. If he wants to make something of himself -- to prove himself to his brother, to spite his father, to have a future -- he’ll need to impress.

 

And he finds it easy to stand out in college. Easier, at least, than standing out in high school. Not only is he motivated, but he finds himself enjoying his studies. School up until this point has been standard, basic, with only a hint of depth to hold his interest. The fact he isn’t spending time with his fellow students seems to grow his reputation as well. People talk about his achievements in the classroom and how no one can hold a conversation with him for more than a couple of minutes.

 

He would be lying if he says the reactions he provokes didn’t amuse him. Something in him enjoys having a reputation, having this sort of power over people who don’t even know him. The best part is he isn’t even trying. He’s just acting the only way he knows how -- albeit more willing to show his talents -- and apparently that’s worthy of respect and mystery. If he could inspire the same fear in criminals he tracked… that is an idea that brings Alex pleasure.

 

He’ll be the one in control from now on.

 

\--

 

Alex goes through two years of college with little incident. No real friends, impressive grades, and an increasing amount of people who know him. He enters junior year ready to begin digging deeper into the ins and outs of the criminal justice system. As far as he has come in standing out, he’s still not willing to be dragged into conversations about the shortcomings of the system. He knows it better than presumably anyone else in the room. No amount of arguing would change that. The only thing starting a debate would bring would be reminders of times he’d rather forget, and if people are too blind to see the obvious, he’s not going to waste his breath.

 

Still, debate or no debate, he knows this path is the right one for him. He will have to return to the military after he gets his degree, but actual options will be waiting for him once that chapter of his life closes. The classes in his major have already begun laying out different routes to take within criminal justice, and Alex is aiming high. He figures the FBI would be his best option, combining some of his physical strength from the military with the intelligence prowess he’s had for as long as he can remember.

 

Of course, with that high goal in mind, he’s even more determined to make his mark. The FBI won’t just take anyone, and he has to make up for the almost self-sabotage he did in the past with not reaching -- or even attempting to reach -- his potential. He studies, he keeps to himself, he doesn’t make any effort to clear up the stories regarding him. He doesn’t expect to make any friends, let alone start serious relationships, like so many people around him seem to be doing.

 

\--

 

The first time he sees her, she’s sitting with two other people, presumably friends. He tries to concentrate on his notebook -- which is hard enough when he’s focused, because his handwriting tends to become less legible farther down pages -- but finds himself glancing up every now and then. They never make eye contact, and he isn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

 

He doesn’t expect to see her again. If she was a regular, it wouldn’t have taken him this long to notice her. Yet the next day she’s there again, this time alone and studying. Alex guesses her friends had introduced her to the shop the day before, and now she had decided she liked it. She’s reading so intently at her notes that he risks staring a little longer than before. He can’t pick out the exact color of her eyes from this distance, but they’re dark. There’s no confusion about her long, straight black hair.

 

It’s the memory of his own notes that takes his attention away from her. He doesn’t think he could forgive himself if he winds up flunking an exam because he was distracted by a pretty woman. Alex doesn’t look up again until he finishes reviewing his notes. He lifts his coffee to finish it off when he sees the woman leaving. She seems to be in a hurry, judging by how she shoves everything in her bag without looking. Perhaps that’s why one lone paper remains on her table. He sees this as his best opportunity to talk to her -- a natural reason would make it easier, wouldn’t it?

 

Swallowing the rest of his coffee, he tosses the cup in the trash. He gathers up his materials and hurries to her table before anyone else has a chance to make the delivery. Her name isn’t written anywhere on the page, so he knows he’ll have to catch up with her to capture her attention. By the time he exits the cafe, she’s several yards away -- but her pace is slow and her steps short. He closes the distance easily, his strides long.

 

“Excuse me,” he says.

 

She turns at the sound of his voice and looks at him, expectant. He hands over the page covered in her small, neat handwriting.

 

“You left this behind.”

 

“Oh my God.” She accepts it with a look of relief. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I had gotten back to my dorm and realized I’d lost that.”

 

Alex smiles as his way of saying “you’re welcome.” It doesn’t take him long to become acutely aware that they’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring at each other. He supposes it’s a good sign that she didn’t turn and end the conversation as soon as it had begun, but what’s he supposed to do now?

 

“Alex,” he introduces, extending a hand.

 

“Pam,” she says, shaking it with a small smile.

 

“Got exams coming up?”

 

“You have no idea. I was hoping they’d be spread out like they were before, but it looks like I lucked out last year.”

 

“Sorry to tell you it doesn’t get any better.”

 

“What year are you?”

 

“Junior,” Alex says. “Criminal justice.”

 

“That’s interesting. What’re you going into?”

 

“The military. They’re paying for me to be here. After service, I’m aiming for the FBI.” Alex knows exactly what he wants, but he knows fate doesn’t always comply. “What about you?”

 

“Sophomore in anthropology.”

 

They fall into silence, the usual pleasantries finished. And they’re starting to notice other students grow annoyed with having to walk around them. Pam looks at her watch and her eyes widen.

 

“I’ve got to go,” she says. “I’ve got an exam in half an hour and I want to make sure I get there on time.”

 

“Good luck.”

 

“Thanks, Alex.”

 

He likes the way his name sounds coming from her.

 

“I’ll be studying a lot for the next few days,” she adds as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. “Maybe you’ll see me again.”

 

He doesn’t think it’s necessary to mention he’s noticed her in the coffee shop every day this week.

 

“Do I have to return a page of your notes every time I want to talk to you?”

 

Pam laughs -- he decides he might like that more than the sound of his name. “No, that’s okay. If I don’t look like I’m busy memorizing every word in my books, feel free to come up.”

 

“I’ll remember that.”

 

“It was nice meeting you. Thanks again for the notes.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Alex watches as she walks away.

 

\--

 

The coffee shop winds up being their place to meet. While exams continue to happen, not many words are exchanged between them. Once the midterms finish they sit and have coffee together. Pam is more lighthearted than Alex is, but he doesn’t grow tired of her personality as he has with other personalities. He enjoys talking with her, and it seems she enjoys talking with him. They focus on the present and the future -- not the past, as when it was brought up, Alex gave short, blunt answers. Pam heard the hint. He likes to hear about her past, but she only brings it up once in a while, not wanting to accidentally offend him.

 

It’s during one such conversation that Alex decides to ask her out. He supposes that an outsider could view their coffee talks as dates, but he wants to make it official.

 

“Do you want to have dinner with me some night soon?” he asks.

 

He doesn’t want to dodge around the question. Either she’ll say yes or she’ll say no -- there’s no point in making things complicated. Pam looks at him, initially in silence. She seems amused by something. Before his thoughts can start to spiral about how he’s made a horrible mistake, she smiles.

 

“Took you long enough.”

 

“What?”

 

“From what I've heard, this is the longest stretch of conversations with anyone you've had.”

 

Alex is aware of his reputation around the school as a loner. He doesn't mind it, but he didn't anticipate it being a dead giveaway for his romantic interest.

 

“...Is that a yes?”

 

Pam laughs. “Yes.”

 

He hopes his relief doesn’t show on his face. “Does tomorrow work for you?”

 

“It does.”

 

“That settles it,” he says, finding himself smiling as well. “Where we go is your choice.”

 

Pam swirls her coffee. “Either the Latin American or Italian places by campus are good. How about you pick? The last thing I want is for our date to be ruined by you suffering through dinner because you’re trying to be a gentleman.”

 

He flashes his teeth in a smile, ducking his head before meeting her eyes again. “You sure about that suggestion?”

 

“Was that an admission of guilt, Alex?” she teases.

 

“No,” he says, even though it was. “Italian gets my vote.”

 

“Then Italian it is.”

 

“I’ll pick you up at your dorm around six?”

 

“Sounds perfect.”

 

\--

 

It’s not until Alex stands in his dorm, staring at himself in the mirror, that he realizes he has no idea how to handle being on a date. It’s easy to talk to Pam when they’re just students and friends, but this...this is something he can ruin. He supposes it’s possible to ruin a friendship, but the fallout from that wouldn’t be nearly as damaging. He’s had no real experience with romance, apart from those rare times when his parents actually seemed to have a healthy relationship. Perhaps he can use them as an example of what not to do -- except all they teach him is to respect Pam and not to abuse her in any way, and that should be common sense.

 

His only consolation is she likely isn’t expecting him to blow her away. He’s already surprised her with turning out to be willing to have conversations with her, if she believed half of the stories about him. He fixes his tie, makes sure he looks respectable, then starts the short walk to her dorm. In his hand he carries some red roses. He had debated with himself whether to bring them -- did people bring roses on first dates? -- but decided it wouldn’t hurt. At worst, she will make fun of him. And deep down he doesn’t mind.

 

It’s not late, but the sidewalks are fairly quiet. Students are holed up in their rooms working (or pretending they don’t have assignments due the next day), in class, at their own dinners. He’s grateful for this, because the last thing he wants is for everyone to see him holding flowers. He hopes his reputation is enough for anyone who sees him to keep quiet. Checking his watch as he reaches Pam’s dorm, he realizes he’s early. Is she ready yet? Should he wait until it’s officially six? He decides to enter, since it may take him a couple of minutes to find her room.

 

By the time he finds her room it’s reasonable to assume some clock somewhere reads six, so he knocks. He keeps the roses behind his back. A few moments of silence, and then Pam opens the door. She’s wearing a blue dress and there’s some curl in her hair. He catches himself staring, then presents her with the flowers.

 

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were a romantic,” she says with a laugh.

 

The worst case isn’t much of a worst case after all, he thinks. Despite the teasing she seems pleased.

 

“Let me put these in water and then we can go.”

 

Alex lingers in the doorway, watching as she fills a tall cup with water. She seems to genuinely care for the flowers -- perhaps she enjoys gardening? He makes a mental note. Once she’s satisfied with the roses, she joins him in the hallway. She locks the door and then the two are off.

 

The restaurant is close enough to walk to, but Alex offers to drive anyways. He isn’t sure how comfortable Pam’s shoes are for walking. She declines the suggestion with a smile, saying she wants to enjoy the fresh air. And so they walk, somewhere in between friends and a couple. Alex doesn’t know how to navigate this position, so he decides to act like nothing has greatly changed. After all, she agreed to go on this date because of how he interacted with her.

 

“How did your essay go?” he asks, genuinely interested, though also picking the first conversation topic he could think of.

 

“Could’ve gone better,” she admits. “Except everyone else in the class complained about how hard it was, so maybe I did well.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“What about your test? The criminal justice one?”

 

Alex finds himself smiling without meaning to. He enjoys his criminal justice classes, and the tests aren’t so much a challenge as an opportunity to flaunt his knowledge. Sometimes they even gave him the opportunity to sound off on the problems he knew of -- without, of course, going into details about his first-hand experiences.

 

“That good, huh?”

 

Pam smiles at him, her teeth showing.

 

“Yeah. That good.”

 

He hopes their date goes just as well. He holds the door of the restaurant open for her, pulls out her chair… he does all the things he knows to be polite. For all the problems his childhood had, at least he learned manners. Pam seems equally charmed and unimpressed, which he finds refreshing. She keeps him on his toes.

 

It’s easy for him to forget they’re on a date, because it seems just like their meetings at the coffee shop. Ignoring their fancy dress and classier surroundings, it’s identical. The easy conversations between them, the promise of something more…

 

During dessert, her hand brushes against his. Judging by her expression, it isn’t an accident. Alex’s lips quirk into a small smile as he closes the distance between their hands to hold hers. It feels smaller in his than he would have guessed. There’s something strangely intimate about holding someone’s hand, he thinks. It’s an innocent gesture, but taking the effort to make such a small action for no other reason than enjoying the sensation indicates affection. They don’t keep the contact for long, as finishing dinner with one hand would be difficult, but their soft expressions remain.

 

Their hands didn’t stay apart for long, as they join together again on the walk back to Pam’s dorm. This time on the walk they stay silent, focusing on the presence of each other. Alex realizes two things when they reach her door: he truly enjoyed himself, and he wants to go out with her again. A thought scratches his mind of just how much he likes her, though he doesn’t want to entertain that until he knows she’s willing to try again.

 

“Thank you, Alex,” she says, turning away from her door to face him. “I haven’t had that much fun in months.”

 

“When can we go out again?” he asks before he has a chance to think of a more casual way to ask.

 

Pam laughs. “Eager, aren’t we?”

 

Yes, he is. And he’s never been particularly proficient at hiding strong emotions.

 

“Would your answer change if I am?”

 

“No.” She steps closer to him. “How does two weeks sound?”

 

“That sounds good.”

 

She’s still smiling at him. He isn’t sure what he should do next. Before he can say good night, she stands on her tiptoes and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek.

 

“Good night, Alex.”

 

“Night, Pam,” he says, his hand touching her cheek briefly before she turns away.

 

\--

 

They go on another date two weeks later, and then two weeks after that. Soon people start to talk about how Alex Mahone and Pam Austin are dating, some wondering how she managed to break through to him. He worries once he graduates they’ll wind up drifting apart, but on their last date before he goes from college back to the military, she makes it clear she wants to stay with him. Their kiss at the end of that date isn’t their first, but it’s their firmest, full of hands roaming over skin and fingers combing through hair. She asks him to promise to return, and he does, though he knows it’s not for him to decide.

 

\--

 

His first stint in the army was about survival, getting out of his home. Second time around, he needs money. He and Pam aren’t married, but he hopes they will be soon. That means he has to think about her -- maybe even a child -- instead of just himself. He’s now a part of PSYOP, a job which should keep him out of the worst fighting and allow him to use his newly earned criminal justice degree and greater knowledge of psychology.

 

The men in his unit like to talk about the women waiting for them at home. Wives, girlfriends, daughters...some don’t have any, though they don’t specify the reason for why. No one presses them. They have more important things to worry about. Alex doesn’t like to talk about his love life. He prefers to save thoughts of Pam for his own private motivation, and perhaps there’s a small part of him that fears if he mentions her, she won’t be waiting for him when -- if? -- he returns.

 

One night, though, he and his companions are sitting together after a particularly difficult day. The kind of day when no one wants to talk. Those with pictures of loved ones pull them out and stare at them, and Alex is no different. He brought just one picture of Pam, a simple shot of her smiling for the camera. He brushes his finger over it, wishing that somehow she could sense his mind on her.

 

“Who’ve you got there, Mahone?” Chavez asks.

 

Alex hesitates for a beat, then decides deflecting the question would only lead to ribbing. “Someone waiting for me.”

 

“Wife?”

 

“Girlfriend.”

 

“Why didn’t you get hitched before being shipped off?” another man, Silva, joins in. “The moment I found out my date I proposed and we got married a week later.”

 

“The timing was off.” Alex says with a small shake of the head. “If I’m gonna marry her, I wanna do it right.”

 

“What if, you know…” Meyer, the youngest in the unit begins, then trails off, not wanting to put any sort of jinx on the group.

 

The thought of not returning home to Pam has crossed Alex’s mind more than once. He doesn’t mind the thought of dying without having married her, but he hates the idea of having the possibility of a bright future with her shut out.

 

“Guess I’ll just have to survive,” he says neutrally, then gives a slight smile. “Think you men can help a guy marry the woman he loves?”

 

Chavez claps him on the shoulder. “I’ve got your back, brother.”

 

The others nod, and everyone starts to reaffirm their promises of protecting each other that they made at the beginning of their mission.

 

“What’s her name?” Silva asks.

 

“Pam.” He knows the way he says her name gives all of his feelings away.

 

“I’ll take care of you as long as you promise to propose one day.”

 

Alex’s smile grows as he returns his attention to the picture in his hand. “I think I can handle that.”

 

He manages to fall asleep easily that night, despite the gunfire in the distant, picturing himself fulfilling his promise to his unit.

 

\--

 

And fulfill his promise he does.

 

Once the war ends and his unit is on their way back, Alex starts planning his proposal to Pam. He knows it would seem unauthentic if he did it immediately upon arriving home, but when would be the best time? Sooner rather than later, he thinks. He has come to love her more than he has ever loved anyone. He can’t think of a better person to settle down, to start a family, with. And to do that he has to propose at some time, right? Why wait? And there was the matter of that promise he’d made… despite not being out on the front lines and not having orders for violence, his unit did not come out unscathed.

 

Alex doesn’t want to propose because of the fact Silva didn’t survive, but it gives him added motivation. He decides to wait until after he gets situated with his new job at the FBI -- they had accepted his application almost immediately after submission. He would begin work in the Denver office, far from where he’d grown up. Of course, that takes him away from Pam as well. He doesn’t ask her to move with him. How could he ask her to leave behind what she’d built over the years when they’re not even engaged yet?

They learned how to have a long-distance relationship when he was overseas, so the miles between them don’t damage anything. Alex tries his best to visit when he can, but his job takes up most of his time. He makes it up to Pam however he can, because he’ll be damned if he lets her slip away. He calls her, sends her gifts. Makes sure she knows how much he loves her.

 

Six months pass before Alex finally has some semblance of a vacation. He decides this is the moment. This is when he’s going to propose to her, because if she’s put up with him for this long, surely she’ll say yes. He doesn’t let himself consider the alternative. The money he earned through his service and the start of his savings from the Bureau is more than enough for him to buy a beautiful yet simple ring. He stores it in his jacket pocket, not wanting it to be out of reach for even a moment.

 

He could ask her the moment they see each other in the airport. Except that would put an unfair amount of pressure on her, and he doesn’t want to put his feelings for her on display for the general public. It would be a stunt, and he knows she deserves much better than that. So when his plane touches down and he walks out to claim his bag, he pretends the box isn’t pressed against his chest. When Pam finds him in the crowd and greets him with a kiss and a smile, he doesn’t let on to his plans.

 

Alex waits until later that night, when he takes her out to dinner. Italian, just like their first date. He finds himself antsy, more nervous than he has been at work for the past months. It’s almost laughable. Here he is, a man who has been at war and has faced some of the worst America has to offer, worried about a yes-or-no question. Pam picks up on his anxiety -- she knows him too well not to -- but he makes up an excuse about not trusting the people back in the office to be doing their jobs without him.

It’s not entirely a lie, and Pam laughs.

 

For the same reasons he didn’t want to propose in the airport, he doesn’t ask in the restaurant either. The box feels like it’s burning in his pocket, waiting for him to stop stalling, and he thinks to it, wait just a couple of minutes longer. He invites her on a walk once they finish, claiming he’s been running all over the country without being able to stop and admire the view. Pam’s all too happy to oblige. Alex can’t help but think of their first date again, how they’d walked to the restaurant instead of driving.

 

Their route takes them past a park, and his eyes focus on a cluster of colorful flowers, illuminated by the lampposts along the path. He walks them in that direction, hoping they catch Pam’s eyes. She glances at them, but keeps the majority of her attention on him. He would be pleased, except for the fact he needs her to be distracted.

“Aren’t those the kind of flowers you’re always wanting to plant?” he asks, even though he knows she’s never talked about these.

 

Pam pauses to take a closer look. He allows her to walk closer to them, and he follows. Staying just out of her line of vision, he reaches into his pocket. By the time she turns around, he’s on one knee, the box open.

 

“Alex...” she starts, guessing his plan almost immediately, but no less surprised.

 

“Pam,” he says, finding himself smiling. “I didn’t have any desire to make connections with anyone at college. I was just there to get my degree and ship back out. But then I saw you at the coffee shop and you left behind your notes...I may not have cared about making friends, but we started talking, and then I had a relationship I didn’t even know I needed. I need you, Pam. You make me a far better man than I ever thought I could be. And if you’re willing, I want what we have, what we mean to each other, to be as official as we can make it.”

 

Alex knows he doesn’t have to say the specific question. She knows what he’s asking. But he’s always been formal when it matters, and he can think of no more important task than this.

 

“Pam Austin.” Is this the last time that full name will be said? “Will you marry me?”

 

One of her hands covers her mouth, and he sees tears in her eyes. He hopes her reply -- whether rejection or acceptance -- is swift.

 

“Yes,” she says, quietly at first, then more excitedly. “Yes, of course.”

 

Any lingering anxiety he has melts away as he stands, slipping the ring onto her finger. She admires it for a moment, then throws her arms around him and kisses him. Alex can’t remember a time he was so happy, so filled with hope. He has a real life ahead of him now -- not just a job, but a wife he loves more than anyone else, and she loves him.

 

“We’re going to have to have those flowers at our wedding,” Pam teases once they break apart. “Some couples have a song, but it looks like we’ve got flowers.”

 

“Whatever you want.”

 

And he means it. As long as he has Pam, he is willing to do anything.

 

\--

 

Despite his knack for the dramatics, Alex wants his wedding with Pam to be a simple affair. It’s not as if he has any family members falling over themselves to attend. Her family, on the other hand, seems to want to make up for the lack of Mahone attendees with their own enthusiasm. It isn’t his place to tell Pam how their wedding should be, so he allows her to take charge.

 

It turns out she’s not particularly interested in having an extravagant event either. They keep the invitations limited to family and close friends, which means the amount of preparations isn’t as large as it could have been. He goes along with all of her suggestions -- she knows him well enough to pick things he can at least tolerate -- and before he knows it, their day arrives.

 

His fingers tap against his legs as he stands at the altar. His gaze falls on the flowers around the church. Pam told him they were begonias, and while he ordinarily wouldn’t give much care to remembering plant names, these flowers were theirs. He can already picture Pam in the backyard planting them with a smile on her face. As the music begins, he refocuses on the main doors, readying himself for his first look at Pam in her wedding dress. No matter how prepared he thought he was, his heart skips a beat when she walks in.

 

For a moment, he can’t believe this is happening. He never thought he would be capable of having an honest future, a happy future, given all he went through in his childhood. The idea taunted him in his dreams, but the possibility of it becoming a reality? He spent too much time worrying about how to escape than believing he had anything substantial to look forward to. Alex is so enchanted with her, he hardly hears the music; once she arrives at his side, he can’t think of anything else.

 

The songs, the readings, the homily all passed as a blur -- if someone asked him later about details of those, he wouldn’t have been able to tell them anything. But he could talk about how Pam’s dress brushes against the floor, how her hand held his, how her eyes shone with happiness…

 

And then their vows come. He says them first, promising to protect Pam, to love her, for the rest of his life. He means every word, and he channels those feelings into his voice. She smiles at him, waiting to echo the words back to him. A deep, dark part of Alex irrationally fears Pam will change her mind. But she doesn’t. She looks him straight in the eyes, saying the words slowly and firmly. Alex realizes for the first time in his life he has someone who is making an oath to care for him -- and he believes it.

 

With each further step in the ceremony, Alex is closer to accepting the wonderful reality of his new life.

 

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, snapping Alex from his thoughts.

 

He reaches up and cups Pam’s cheek in his hand, leaning down. Before their lips meet, he pauses, allowing her to fully close the distance and their marriage. It’s a gentle kiss, but it gives him a bubbly feeling in his chest. When they break apart, he sees the same sensation reflected in her face. He smiles, teeth flashing for a moment. She replies with her own grin, taking his hand again in lieu of another kiss.

 

There would be plenty of time for that after the ceremony.

 

\--

 

Early on, he tries his best to keep work and home separated. What he has to see in the office has no place in the house, and the less Pam knows, the better. The last thing Alex wants is for his safe haven to be tainted by the crimes of others. He can’t leave his stress behind, but nothing helps him more than Pam wrapping her arms around him and welcoming him home with a smile.

 

“It’s not that I don’t care about what you do,” she said once, “but you have to leave it behind you at the door. Keeping it with you all the time wouldn’t be healthy.”

 

He understands and he obeys. He lives up to her expectations more often than not, and her frown when he fails is enough to deter him from slipping up again for the immediate future. As the years pass, Alex knows his work has started to track into the house with him like mud on his shoes. He does what he can to keep it out, but he -- and Pam -- have come to learn there is little room for separation between work life and personal life for an FBI special agent.

 

The hunt for Matthew Kasten is the turning point. Kasten kidnapped a boy in Kentucky, and through tips, it’s clear he has made it across several state lines. The last information spotted him in Illinois, so Alex has been juggling case information with coordinating the search. He supposes it’s a positive that Kasten has made it to his state, as he has never liked travelling for cases and leaving Pam alone, but the apparent proximity of his quarry doesn’t have any impact on the amount of work.

 

He’s always had a weak spot for cases involving children or anyone else defenseless, likely stemming from his childhood. He can’t help but bring his case files inside the house. Pam catches on quickly, giving him her usual resigned look. This time he doesn’t cave. He isn’t so far gone that he completely ignores her, but times usually spent reading together on the couch are now replaced with him scribbling and scratching out notes on his notepad.

 

One night, Pam decides it’s time for her to speak up. Alex can disregard her stares and pretend he doesn’t notice, but he can’t tune out her voice.

 

“Alex,” she says, “do you remember what I said when you first started with the Bureau, after we got married?”

 

He does. He remembers her making him promise that to the best of his ability, he would leave his work behind. Neither were naive enough to think the job of a special agent would have 9-5, 40-hour weeks, but she wanted him to carve out time for family when possible. He remembers making that promise. And now he is breaking it.

 

“I know this case is important to you, but you need to draw a line somewhere. There’s no middle ground -- either you leave it at the office, or you bring all of it home.”

 

She’s speaking carefully, trying to make her point without angering him. Alex appreciates her effort, but it doesn’t change her message. Or his stance.

 

“Please, Alex. Put the files away for the night. They’re not going anywhere. Put being an agent on hold for the night and be my husband.”

 

“I can't, Pam,” he snaps more harshly than he intended, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “The Bureau is the best hope this boy has. I'm not going to let him spend any more time with Kasten than he already has, okay?”

 

“What are you going to do?” she asks, sounding calm, but he knows she doesn’t approve of his decision. “Start bringing home files every day because every minute you spend away from work is hurting someone else?”

 

“If that's what it takes, then yeah.”

 

Pam’s eyes soften at his conviction.

 

“You've gone this long without bringing the two worlds together, and nothing bad has happened,” she says gently, resting a hand on his cheek. “You’ll catch Kasten like you always do, but sabotaging your life here won't speed things along. It'll just drag you down.”

 

Drag us down is the other conclusion that she leaves unspoken. Deep down, Alex is aware that by fully taking this case home, he has set himself at the top of a slippery slope. He doesn't want to set a descent in motion, but when he looks at the innocent face of the boy on the missing posters...the arrogant expression Kasten wears in his wanted posters...how could Alex live with himself if he stopped short of giving the case his all?

 

“I'm sorry,” he says finally, pulling away from her hand.

 

He is not sorry enough to stop his work.

 

Pam sits with him for a moment longer, then lets out a soft sigh and leaves the room.

 

\--

 

“Have you thought about us having a child?” Pam asks out of the blue.

 

They’re celebrating their anniversary at Pam’s favorite restaurant, a tradition since they moved to Chicago for his job. Alex’s vision of his future with Pam always included a child -- usually a son, though he would not have complained about a daughter -- but he didn’t know when the right time would be. Certainly not right after they were married, and he had wanted to get settled with the Bureau before adding anything new to their lives. Maybe even a small part of him wanted to make sure he and Pam would last before someone depended on them.

 

They’ve been married for eight years now, and he’s been working with the FBI for just as long. Every reason he had for hesitating on having a child is gone now -- except, perhaps, his fear of turning out like his father, though he knows that will never go away.

 

“There’s no rush,” she adds, aware of why their house continues to just have the two of them. “I just thought I’d make sure you hadn’t buried the idea in all of your case files.”

He cracks a smile. “I can promise I haven’t done that.”

 

Alex realizes he knows almost nothing about family. He remembers the stories children at school used to tell oh-so-long-ago, the ones that didn’t match what he lived. All he knows is that he will be a better husband and father than his father ever was. Doing the exact opposite of what his father did would be a good guide, wouldn’t it? He could tell by the light in Pam’s eyes that she wanted this, and probably had far before she decided to ask. Maybe she could teach him how to be a parent. She had already taught him so much.

 

“How long have you been waiting to ask?”

 

Pam laughs. “To be honest, years. But taking things slow has been nice.”

 

It has been, Alex thinks, but there is no reason to continue doing so -- especially given how ready Pam seems to be.

 

“Looks like we have a plan for the night,” he says, then shows his teeth in a grin. “As long as we don’t make it a new anniversary tradition.”

 

“God, no,” Pam says with another laugh. “I think we’ll be happy for a while with one extra body causing trouble.”

 

They finish their dinner without any more mentions of children, but the thought never leaves their minds.

 

\--

 

Later that night they lay together under the covers, Pam curled against him as he looks at the ceiling.

 

“How many names have you already come up with?” Alex asks with a smile.

 

“A few,” she replies, and by the tone of her voice, he knows it’s much more.

 

“Maybe we should start a list.”

 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves -- we don’t even know if it worked.”

 

Alex turns his head to press a kiss into her hair. “Well, we’re gonna have a kid running around this place eventually.”

 

“I can’t believe the pressure of picking a good name,” she says. “What if they hate it?”

 

“Try something that can be shortened,” he suggests. “I haven’t heard of anyone who hates both name and nickname.”

 

“Speaking from experience?”

 

The corner of his mouth turns up. “I don’t have anything against Alexander. It’s just formal.”

 

“Pamela isn’t any better.”

 

“Seems like the kid of a couple of people with shortened names should be able to have the same chance.”

 

She makes a sound of agreement. Alex waits for her to share some of her ideas, wondering if any would stick out, or if they would be the parents that waited until the last moment to decide.

 

“Jacob...Katherine...Stephanie...Cameron...those are the only ones I had thought of already that have potential nicknames.”

 

Alex doesn’t have any initial impressions of any of the names. None of them scream to him “this is your child,” but he isn’t turned away by any either. He wonders how they sound with the last name Mahone. With the new criteria, he finds himself picking a favorite.

 

“Cameron is good,” he says finally. “Cameron Mahone. Cam.”

 

“I like that one too,” Pam agrees. “We can put it first on our currently non-existent list, but if it’s the only one we keep, we’re in trouble if we want options.”

 

He smiles. “We’ve got time to think.”

 

\--

 

Their child is born just over nine months later: a son, and they name him Cameron. None of the other names they had come up with for a boy came close to rivaling their first choice. Alex isn’t surprised to find that juggling his job and fatherhood is quite the task, but he’s determined to help Pam the best he can. She knows he can’t always be there for them, and makes sure he understands that she is grateful for what he is able to do. As long as he makes the effort, she tells him, everything is perfect.

 

He redoubles his efforts to keep his work out of his home life after Cameron is born. He knows he has been slipping more and more since Kasten, zoning out at dinner or murmuring case details during times set aside for relaxation. The workings of his day life are even less fit for his son’s ears than his wife’s -- and he knows Pam would never forgive him if he exposes Cameron to half of what he experiences. Cameron is too young to understand what Alex does; Pam tells him his father has an important job keeping people safe, but neglects to mention the marks it leaves. It is a weight Alex can handle, something he started to learn as a child and continued through his military service, but a weight nonetheless.

 

Alex catches every convict he’s set on the path of, within weeks, sometimes days, which makes his load more manageable.

 

Then Oscar Shales changes everything. None of the people Alex has tracked have been good people, but Shales… Shales is as close to a monster as they came. Part of Alex wants to enjoy the challenge the other man poses, but the body count keeps rising. What seemed initially like a game now concerns Alex he isn’t smart enough or quick enough to win. Each woman Shales hurts feels like a further stain on his life -- why can’t he stop him like he has stopped every other criminal whose photo has skidded across his desk?

 

So Alex works harder, longer. The case doesn’t stay in the office like he’d promised Pam so many years ago. It follows him home. It consumes his thoughts. It haunts his nightmares. He can’t worry about the concerned looks Pam gives him, because every second he isn’t thinking about Shales is another possible victim on his conscience.

 

\--

 

He comes home late one night -- late has become the norm with this damn case, and he wonders if he needs to change his definitions of “late nights” -- and looks for Pam and Cameron. It isn’t until he truly acknowledges the time that he realizes his son is in bed. He leaves his messenger bag and keys on the kitchen table, heading for his son’s bedroom without bothering to take off his shoes. Voices reach his ears, and he hesitates at the barely cracked door.

 

“Dad doesn’t love me,” Cameron’s matter-of-fact voice states.

 

“Of course he does, Cam,” Pam assures.

 

“Then why is he always busy?”

 

Alex moves so he can see a sliver of the scene. Cameron sits up in his bed, covers up to his waist as he leans back against the wall. Pam is there with him, stroking his hair gently.

 

“You know your father has a very important job. Sometimes he has to spend more time working than with us, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love us.”

 

“But we’re family.”

 

“I know, honey, I know. Your father tries very hard to be with us as much as he can, but sometimes he has to work.” Pam glances around her son’s room, seeking inspiration to help him understand. “You know those superheroes you like?”

 

Cameron nods.

 

“Those heroes love their families, but if the bad guy is doing something mean, the heroes have to go stop them. Even if it means not being with the people they love for a little bit. Once they beat the bad guy, they go right back to their family.”

 

Alex tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. He knows he is the farthest thing from a superhero, and yet Pam sounds so sure of her analogy. She always did see through his flaws, saying that he’s a good man at heart. Whenever he inadvertently hurts her, she takes some time for herself, but she always comes back to him. What did he do to deserve her? He is certain he’ll never know.

 

“So dad is a superhero?” Cameron asks after a moment of reflecting on the story.

 

“He’s as close to one as you and I will ever know, Cam.”

 

“I guess he’s okay then.” Satisfied, Cameron shifts to lay on his back. “But I want him to tell me good night.”

 

Alex takes that as his cue to push open the door. Cameron’s face lights up, and Pam turns to see what caught her son’s attention. She gives Alex a weary smile as he approaches the other side of the bed.

 

“Looks like your wish came true,” she teases, poking Cameron’s nose.

 

“Dad is a superhero,” Cameron says, as if that explains everything.

 

“Sorry I’m late, Cam.”

 

“Did you catch any bad guys?”

 

Alex’s smile falters for a moment at the thought of Shales continuing to elude him. He manages to pick up the mask again before his son notices.

 

“Not today, but it’s only a matter of time.”

 

“You’ll get them,” Cameron says, in the innocent voice of a child who has no idea about the monsters that live in his world.

 

“Thanks, buddy.” Alex leans down and kisses his son’s forehead. “Now you get some sleep, okay?”

 

“Okay. Good night, dad.”

 

“Night.”

 

Pam kisses Cameron good night as well, then turns off the lights. Alex waits for her at the door, and they leave together. They don’t say anything until they close Cameron’s door and walk to the kitchen.

 

“I can heat up leftovers for you,” Pam says. “Unless you ate at the office.”

 

“There’s no time for anything but following leads.” Alex massages his forehead for a moment. “If we could be so lucky,” he adds in a mutter.

 

She takes out pasta from the refrigerator and sticks it in the microwave. He sits down at the table, even though he’d been stuck at his desk for more hours than was comfortable. By the time the food is finished, Pam turns with the plate to find a file open in front of him.

 

“Alex…”

 

He holds up a hand. “I know, Pam. But I can’t stop. Shales sure as hell isn’t going to.”

 

Pam frowns, but she doesn’t try to talk him out of it. She gave up after the Kasten case, but she still makes her feelings clear non-verbally. He acknowledges the food with a nod and a tired thank you. Then his energy refocuses on the folder that had taunted him for the whole day.

 

“I’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” Pam says, lingering by his side. “Cam’s got his yearly doctor’s appointment.”

 

“Don’t wait up for me.”

 

She presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

 

He makes a noncommittal grunt.  

 

“You’re not going to solve anything running on no sleep,” she points out.

 

“There’ll be time for sleep when this man is behind bars where he belongs.”

 

“Alex…”

 

He manages to crack a smile at her tone. “I’ll only be up an hour longer. Go on.”

 

Pam gives his shoulder a pat before turning to leave.

 

“Oh, and Pam?”

 

She looks back.

 

“Thanks for what you told Cam. About me being a superhero. I know I’m a poor excuse for one, but --”

 

She interrupts him with a gentle kiss on the lips. “You are one to us. It doesn’t mean you’re invincible or perfect, you know.”

 

Alex reaches up to rest a hand on her cheek. He doesn’t have a reply to that other than another thank you, but he knows his face says enough. Pam smiles, then walks out of the room. He allows himself a few seconds to immerse himself in her love before returning to the case file. Instead of the one hour he’d promised Pam, he winds up staying up for another two. She’s already in a deep sleep by the time he crawls under the covers with her, and he’s smart enough not to tell her later how much time he’d spent agonizing over the lack of leads.

 

\--

 

For a few wonderful hours, Alex convinces himself Shales’ case is finally over. The man has been apprehended in Evanston, and soon will be transported to a maximum security prison. There’s no doubt Shales will never be able to roam free again. A small voice whispers in the back of Alex’s head, the one rooted in distrust from his childhood. It worries the courts will make a horrible mistake, leave the slightest window of opportunity open for Shales to return to society. The man, the monster, would take it and start his trail of horror all over again. Alex quiets that voice. No one would be so idiotic as to see Shales’ record and decide that he deserved anything but a life sentence -- or death.

Except then word comes that Shales has managed to escape custody.

 

The call comes in the evening, when Alex is actually having dinner with Pam and Cameron. It’s the first time in weeks they’re able to do so on a weeknight. He has half a mind to ignore his phone, but then he sees it’s work calling. Excusing himself, he answers the phone and wanders into the front hallway so he’s not overheard.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Shales got out. Just got the call a couple of minutes ago.”

 

It feels like someone dumped ice down his back. Of all the paranoia his thoughts had entertained over the past hours, he’d never considered that Shales wouldn’t even make it to the prison.

 

“Where?”

 

“About half an hour away from the prison. No one knows how, but he managed to unlock his cuffs from the floor and jump out the van. They were by a forest, which he ran into. He hasn’t been seen since.”

 

“How the hell do you give him even an inch of freedom?” Alex snaps.

 

“I don’t know, sir.”

 

Alex doesn’t either, and he’ll be damned if he lets this oversight result in more death. He wants to tear into the agent more, list off all the ways this could have been prevented, but the more time he spends shouting at a man who had no hand in the incident, the colder Shales’ trail gets.

 

“I’ll be in the office in fifteen minutes,” he says instead. “I expect a map of the area and all the information we have so far to be ready.”

 

He hangs up before the agent has a chance to reply. When he returns to the kitchen, work clothes back on, Pam knows something has gone wrong. So consumed with his frustration, he doesn’t come over as particularly apologetic to her or Cameron when he explains he has to go back to work. Cameron seems sad -- Alex can hardly blame him, with as absent as he’s been during this case -- and so does Pam, but at least the latter understands the importance of the case. He gives Cameron a pat on the shoulder and a quick kiss to Pam before leaving.

 

\--

 

It takes weeks, but Alex finally tracks Shales down to a small town south of Chicago. He isn’t fast enough to save one woman, but he tries not to think too much about her. Instead, he focuses on how Shales is never going to hurt anyone again. He’s more careful than usual while handling the criminal’s transportation, checking the handcuffs and chain several times. Shales is surprisingly quiet during the ride until he asks for his bathroom break. Alex wishes he could ignore the request, but he pulls over anyways.

 

He knows no good can come from this. There’s no chance Shales will manage to escape on his watch, but Alex is sure the other man has some sort of plan. He pushes him into a clearing and waits for the break to end. The sooner Shales sits alone in a cell the better.

 

“Your hands are tied, Mahone,” Shales gloats, starting up conversation for the first time. “You’re going to turn me in like a good little government agent, and then you’re going to have to worry about what happens to me once I’m out of your hands.”

 

Alex’s jaw clenches. He doesn’t want to show any sign of weakness, but that voice in the back of his mind is starting to whisper again. He’s the only one he can trust to deal with Shales -- he won’t escape under his watchful eye. So when he does deliver the criminal to the inside of a secure cell...what happens next? Alex can’t have control over the entire judicial process, no matter how much he wishes he could.

 

“What happens if some people testify certain ways? What if jurors feel a little lenient on the day of my sentencing? I’ll be a model prisoner, and then I’m going to get out a little early, and you know what I’m going to do then?”

 

“Shut up,” Alex growls, tired of pretending that the criminal isn’t getting to him.

 

“Why so worried, Mahone? Shouldn’t a big special agent like you have trust in the system?”

 

“Break is over.” He grabs the man’s shoulder and starts pushing him back in the direction of the car. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk in your cell. No one’ll be there to listen, but a guy like you is probably used to that.”

 

Shales laughs instead of taking offense. “You got a family, Mahone? A wife? A kid, maybe?”

 

Alex freezes.

 

“Maybe if I get out we can have a nice chat. I’d love to get to know them.”

 

Half cursing himself for giving Shales an opening, Alex’s anger rises. He knows he needs to ignore everything that’s being said, to deliver his prisoner to justice like the law decrees.

 

“I usually don’t get to talk too long with my friends, but they do say actions speak louder than words.”

 

Before Alex can think about what he’s doing, he has the muzzle of his gun pressed into the back of Shales’ head, right where it joins with the neck. Shales doesn’t seem too concerned with this development, which doesn’t calm Alex’s temper.

 

“Like I said, Mahone, your hands are tied. You’re not going to shoot me.”

 

“I’m not?” Alex challenges.

 

“You’re too good for that. I bet your family is real proud of you --”

 

Alex clicks the safety off his gun. He’s not playing, and he wants Shales to know that. Shales opens his mouth, presumably to keep taunting, and Alex pushes the weapon harder against the shorter man’s head. That motion breaks through Shales’ thoughts.

 

“Hey, look, you don’t have to do this.”

 

“Who’s worried now?” Alex says, dark humor in his tone.

 

“No one’s ever gonna let me walk free, okay? I was just messing with you.”

 

“Just like you were messing with all those women you’ve tortured?”

 

Shales’ attitude has taken such a complete flip that Alex wants to laugh. He has the upper hand now, and Shales knows it.

 

“Like you said, the break is over.”

 

“That’s not all that’s over.”

 

“Mahone, don’t do this. Don’t pull the trigger.”

 

“I bet those words are like the ones your victims said just before you killed them.”

 

Alex’s mind has shut down, concentrating only on all the files he studied over and over again in the hopes of finding some clue on Shales’ location. All those women, innocent women, raped and tortured and murdered by the monster he holds at gunpoint.

 

“Doesn’t seem to have done them a lot of good,” he says, with a hint of finality.

 

“Please --”

 

The gunshot echoes around him, but Alex barely hears it. He steps back and watches as Shales’ body falls to the ground, blood seeping out of the small hole into the dirt. Just like that, he guarantees Shales will never hurt another person. One simple action, and Alex has not only avenged lives, but saved future ones. He’s just broken the law, committed the same crime he’s apprehended God knows how many for doing the same, and he feels...good. As his thoughts start moving forward again, he realizes he’s landed himself in trouble. No sensible investigator would see the bullet wound and determine it was fired in self-defense -- he can’t stomach the idea of having to serve time for ridding the world of a man like Shales. He should be thanked, not imprisoned.

 

Which means he has some work to do, to cover up what he’s done.

 

\--

 

He knows that his sudden interest in gardening has raised Pam’s suspicions. She has no idea about the reason behind his new passion for landscaping, and it hurts to think she believes his intentions are pure, albeit confusing.

 

“I can help you,” she says with a small smile. “I do know a bit about gardening, you know, since this whole backyard has my fingerprints all over it.”

 

“No, it’s fine,” he responds, trying not to show how desperately he needs her to back off.

 

“If you’re sure.”

 

She retreats back into the house to play with Cameron, and Alex continues his work. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to drag Shales’ body onto their property without her noticing, let alone burying it.

 

He manages to do it in the dead of night. He convinced Pam and Cameron to take a small vacation at Pam’s parents’ place, claiming he would be doubling down on Shales’ case and didn’t want to inconvenience them. At least, any more than he already had during this disaster. It wasn't a lie. By the time they return, they’re unaware of the permanent guest under their bird bath.

 

Alex thinks he can handle it. Shales is gone, and soon the Bureau will close it as a cold case. It’ll be a mark on his record, but he’ll know the truth, and he still has his family. But then the nightmares start up. Shales, digging himself out of his grave and doing to Pam what he did to all of his victims. Cam, playing around in the backyard, only to have a skeletal hand grab his ankle and pull him underground. Pam is used to his nightmares and comforts him with gentle kisses and murmured words, but the secret claws at his insides. How can he do this to the two people who made up his world?

 

He’s out “gardening” again one day, planting flowers while making sure there’s no sign of what else he has buried. Pam walks out and starts to talk to him -- but she’s standing close to the bird bath. Far, far too close. He snaps, shouting at her to get away from the garden. His garden. His sin. Pam is taken aback, her eyes widening slightly. Alex wishes he could take it back, but she needs to move away from the unmarked grave. If she stays by it too long, his troubles could seep into her, or one of his dozen nightmares could come true. She sees something in his face that tells her he is not joking, and she goes back inside. Her posture is slumped, and he pictures her eyes filling with tears that he knew she would brush away before Cameron could see.

 

He wants to apologize. He wants to take her in his arms and tell her how much she means to him. He wants to explain everything, but he knows he can’t. This is his cross to bear. He does not regret killing Shales -- how many innocent lives did he avenge, and how many more did he save? -- but he undoubtedly regrets what it has done to him and his family. Alex knows this is his act, and he alone must suffer the consequences. He is willing to do so, but he is not willing to continue to drag down his wife and son.

 

And then he knows what he has to do.

 

It breaks his heart, cornering her in the kitchen when Cameron is out of the room. Telling her she needs to leave. She needs to leave the house and the marriage, and she needs to take their son with her. It is better for everyone involved if she just listens and exits peacefully at once. She doesn’t understand, and why would she, given their twelve years of a mostly happy marriage? He knows she won’t leave if she still believes he retains an ounce of love for what they have built, so he must convince her otherwise. He can’t bring himself to yell -- he can’t become his father, even if he doesn’t mean it -- but he forces himself to lock down his feelings for her, for Cameron.

 

So she leaves. Alex watches her and Cameron from a window, their bags shoved into the back of a cab as they head for her parents’ place. Cameron looks excited. As far as he knows, it’s just another fun vacation and he’ll be seeing his father again soon. Alex doesn’t envy Pam’s position, having to explain to the young boy that his father is no longer a part of his life. With them gone, Alex no longer has to pretend he doesn’t care, but he doesn’t allow himself long to feel sorry for himself. In the long run, this is better for them. As long as they have happiness, what happens to him doesn’t matter.

 

\--

 

Ever since Pam and Cameron left, the house is quiet. Uncomfortably so. It’s been almost two years now, and he’s not any more used to it. He’s acutely aware that technically he isn’t alone -- his eyes often stray outside to the bird bath -- but he misses them. He tries his best to close off those thoughts, as they do more harm than good, though he doesn’t always succeed. Sometimes it’s easier, when the pills blurring his thoughts of Shales do the same for his family, but they wear off eventually. During one such spell, his phone rings. He gives a small flinch.

 

“Mahone,” he says, answering it.

 

“We need you in the office,” Wheeler says. “Eight convicts just broke out of Fox River Penitentiary. We’ve got files waiting for you.”

 

“On my way.”

 

He flips his phone shut and tucks it in his jacket pocket. He grabs his messenger bag from the kitchen table and makes for the front door. Pam would have killed him if he brought home eight case files, he thinks. He pauses. Changing direction, he walks out into his backyard. The thought of Pam usually sends him to the place where Shales is buried. He stands by the bird bath, looking at his reflection in the water. He remembers how he wondered what a functional family was as a child, how he hoped for a happy, loving future. He had that for twelve years. Twelve wonderful, beautiful years -- despite the bumps along the way -- that made him forget his past as much as he ever could. And now they were over.

 

Sometimes things happen that are just out of your control.

 

He remembers what he said to Pam as explanation for him wanting her out of the house and marriage. It had been a small comfort to him to say that, to pretend things had to happen this way. That Pam had to leave because Shales wouldn't stop hurting innocent people, because Alex knew all too well how the court system could fail. Because when he finally caught up with Shales, the bastard bragged about all he had accomplished. Taunted him, thinking Alex's hands were tied.

 

Alex gives a bitter laugh. Shales didn't know he was antagonizing the wrong man until it was too late. Yes, it was all too easy for Alex to tell Pam that his course of action had been inevitable.

 

But he knows it's not true.

 

Does he regret killing Shales? The wind blows gently over the bird bath, rippling through his reflection. He does not regret putting an end to Shales’ trail of death. He has avenged so many, and perhaps even saved others. He does wish he had come up with a plan that didn't ruin his life. Pam's life. Cameron's life. Hopefully away from him and whatever trouble his actions would attract, his wife and son could find happiness. If his murder of Shales winds up having a negative impact only on him, then he supposes it was worth it.

 

Alex Mahone learned at an early age that life was not fair.

 

As an adult, he managed to find happiness -- or at least as close as he would ever come.

 

Now, as he slowly raises his sunglasses to his face, he knows that his happiness was not meant to last.


End file.
